


About Time

by mintyworks



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Adorable Connor, Confessions of love, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Fluff, Grumpy Hank Anderson, Hank Anderson - Freeform, Hank Anderson Swears, Hannor, Kissing, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Out, Protective Hank Anderson, Romance, connor finds out he's deviant, kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-28 00:40:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18201152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintyworks/pseuds/mintyworks
Summary: After the events at the Stratford Tower, Hank takes Connor out to celebrate. Connor struggles to come to terms with his growing deviancy and Hank realizes just how fond he's become of his android partner.





	About Time

**Author's Note:**

> Made a few typo corrects and added a few extra sentences. Thanks for reading everyone! If you want this to become a multiple part piece just comment and tell me ^_^

_You saved human lives._

_You saved MY life._

 

                “Come on Connor lighten up! It’s a celebration!” Hank exalted in the middle of the near-abandoned bar. The dim lights flickered above them, and soft rock music played in the background. Connor kept running through the situation repeatedly, analyzing the different paths he could have taken. Perhaps he had brought unnecessary danger to himse---to Hank—of course. Amanda would not be pleased to hear he had made yet another error in the investigation.

                “Yo, Connor. _Connor_?”

                “Yes Lieutenant?” Connor answered, lifting his gaze to meet Hank’s expectant squint.

                “You can call me Hank, you know. You all right? The fuck is wrong with you?” he asked, taking a sip of his scotch and rubbing the taste on his lips with his tongue. “You seem distracted.”

                “I am simply reviewing the events of today, Lieutenant.”

                “Well cut it out, you’re killing the mood. Seriously, don’t you androids do anything for fun? Ever? You know. Turn off from work? Watch T.V….”

                Connor gave him a soft smirk. “Listen to death metal?”

                “Yeah.” Hank’s tone dipped as he leaned in, adjusting his loose obnoxiously patterned shirt over his stomach. “You did good today. A piece of advice if you’re going to keep being an investigator, never complicate good news with bad news. Take the good, leave the rest.”

                Connor immediately felt a flicker of retort come to mind, a challenge to Hank’s confusing character. He weighed the odds of a negative emotional response from Hank before opening his mouth. The odds were high, but for some reason, he made the decision to say it anyway.

                “Is that what you do, Lieutenant?” he asked, his tone even, if not marked with a bit of accusation.

                He wasn’t expecting Hank’s response.

                “Woah! Hey!” he laughed – and smiled. “I know I’m full of shit but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.” He picked up his scotch and finished it swiftly before leaning back in the booth seat. Connor sat there, reading Hank’s body language, his heart rate, and other physical tells. He was still in a relaxed state. Perhaps Hank was right. He was taking the good. Connor had saved his life today.

                Connor’s LED blinked yellow for a moment as he realized that this was a far cry from the man passed out in the kitchen with the gun. He felt an unsettling wave of thoughts _relief_ but he was able to shut it down.

                “You never answered my question,” Hank pointed out.

                “Which question was that, Lieutenant?”

                “You ever do anything for fun?” Hank crossed his arms and extended his legs underneath the table, his shoe bumping into Connor’s leg.

                “I am programmed to participate in—”

                “Blah blah blah blah!” Hank flung his arms and pulled himself out of the booth. He spun around in place before pointing to a pool table in the back. “There. Come with me Connor.”

                Connor obliged, getting up and following Hank to the back where the pool table was set up.

                “You ever played pool before?” Hank asked.

                “No, I cannot say I have,” Connor admitted, circling around the table. “If you would like, I can download the necessary programming to teach me the rules.”

                Hank grinned wide and grabbed two pool cues, handing him one, before chalking the tip of his. “I can teach yah,” he shrugged. He moved to remove the triangle from the set of billiard balls. “Rules are simple. You take this stick right here, called a cue stick, and you try to hit your colored billiards into any of these pockets with the white billiard, called a cue ball. For example.”

                Hank leaned over the table and made an expert shot, landing two striped billiards in the pockets. “See now I’m landing stripes. You’re solids.”

                Connor nodded in understanding.

                “So, I’m supposed to keep going,” Hank continued. “Until I don’t sink any more billiards. But come over here and I’ll show you how to shoot.”

                Connor did as he was told, and Hank proceeded to lean over the table and show him how to hold the cue stick.

                “No no no, like this,” he said, moving over and adjusting Connor’s arms and posture. Hank’s hands were surprisingly gentle forces against his elbow, his shoulder, his chest, and back. The LED flickered yellow again _affection_ but it was only for a moment. He would have to return to Cyberlife and run a full diagnostic. His own was not picking up the problem.

                “All right, try and make a shot,” Hank said, shifting his weight where he stood and crossing his arms. Connor nodded and looked to the white cue ball. This was a simple task. With one shot he could sink every one of the solid balls, but he wondered what would happen if he did not. What else would Hank have to teach him? He seemed to be enjoying teaching him. Could he feign incompetence just to make this moment play out longer? Why did he _desire_ that?

                Connor made his shot. Only a few solids made it into the pockets. He straightened and looked to Hank, giving him a smile. Hank was beaming.

                “You’re a natural!” he clapped his hands and Connor looked to the bar tender, who was cleaning glasses and staring at them, eyes flicking to Hank more confusedly than Connor. Connor was used to stares, especially here, in an establishment where androids were not allowed. Hank had special weight around here though, and no one argued with Hank when he brought Connor here in the first place. But the stares were different. Connor could not get a read on them.

                He decided to end the process devoted to figuring that out and return to the game. Connor continued to feign incompetence as Hank taught him details about technique and form and Connor measured out his improvement carefully. He succeeded in making Hank happier.

* * *

 

                “Sumo!” Hank laughed as he swung his arms out to catch the large dog in a hug. “You hungry? Let’s go get you something to eat!”

                Connor closed the door behind him and looked around the dim cool house. Hank had invited him back home and Connor had marked his time as “Beneficial Social Engagement” – he was allotted a certain amount each day. Cyberlife had made sure to program him to leverage situations to his advantage, like he had on the rooftop negotiation event. Most if not all of his B.S.E. time was spent with Hank, and he was running out for the day. For some reason, he did not see the harm since Hank had ordered him here. On second thought, Connor relabeled the event now as an “Outstanding Order - designation Lt. Anderson”. That made more sense and the time limit was indefinite.

                Hank stumbled into the living room with a beer and collapsed on the couch. “Ugh, what a day, what a damned day.”

                Connor moved to join him, sitting down carefully.

                Hank guzzled his beer and closed his eyes. “Hey, since, you know. You ask me so many personal questions all the time, I think I deserve a few.”

                “You may ask any question you like, Lieutenant, but I do not have anything personal to confess,” Connor advised him.

               “Back at the Eden club, when we first walked in, I saw you were staring at one of the models,” Hank began, giving him a squinty-eyed smirk. “A dude. You got a preference there or something?”

               Connor cocked his head. “A preference, sir?”

               “Yeah, I mean. I know you ain’t deviant, but I mean. You, specifically, ever, you know…?”

               “You are not making much sense, Lieutenant,” Connor said gently.

               “Sex. You ever had sex? Can you? Or is that just an Eden club model thing?”

               Connor sat there for a moment, processing this line of questioning and finding no logical explanation for why Hank would be asking these questions. “I have never had sex, no. Though, as part of my design, I am fully equipped with both the necessary anatomy and the programming to accommodate and simulate male sexual intercourse. The intention was so that if the situation required it, I could leverage the emotional state of a Beneficial Social Engagement to a desirable result, though, I doubt that will have any relevance to the current case.”

               Connor looked to Hank, who seem to be agitated. The lieutenant misaligned his jaw and winced at his response. The more Connor had spoken, the more displeased he looked.

               “They programmed you so you could have sex as leverage? That’s against the rules, you know. Police Department rules, laws! That’s just _wrong_!”

               “Cyberlife has a different standard of behavior,” Connor tried to explain, but his brow twitched. He felt the sting in his temple _guilt_ but it was brief, like the other events that evening.

               “Fucking Cyberlife,” Hank murmured, guzzling his beer. “It ain’t right Connor. Tell me you won’t do anything like that. Ever. Not just because it’s wrong for the human but because it’s not fair to you, either. There are just certain things we shouldn’t be doing. I mean I hate the fact that people can rent androids and treat them like trash for pleasure, I hate the whole goddamn thing. It just ain’t right,” he repeated. “Tell me you won’t do that. Fuck if you want but don’t do _that._ ”

               Connor was quiet for a moment. “I will not do that, Lieutenant.”

               “Bah, who am I kidding, you never listen to me anyway,” Hank murmured, pushing himself off the couch and running his thick fingers through his greasy hair. He put a fist to his chest and pounded out a belch before stumbling toward the hallway to his room. “I’m goin’ to bed if I can make it.”

               Connor stood and glided over to Hank as he leaned into the wall. He put a hand in his back and Hank tossed an arm around his shoulder. It wasn’t easy, but he managed to get Hank to collapse onto the bed. Hank squirmed out of his pants, leaving himself sprawled on his stomach in his shirt and boxers. Connor pulled the covers over Hank and moved to the other side of the bed to do the same.

               A massive force pushed Connor over the bed, and he was crawled on by, who he could rightfully assume, Sumo. The large dog panted loudly and laid on him, and Hank turned to the side to watch the spectacle.

               “Sumo, down, get off ‘em. Leave Connor alone.”

               Sumo only seemed to stomp around more, and Connor crawled onto the bed to get away from him. It was proving to be a difficult task, only because he knew the use of meaningful force was unwanted. The dog was being friendly, so Connor found himself face planted awkwardly and the large dog laying on top of him. His tail wagging thumped the back of his head.

               “Lieutenant, help.”

               Hank burst out laughing. “Sumo! Get! Come on boy!”

               Sumo got up and panted like an ocean wave, dancing along the bed before finally settling on Hank’s legs. Connor turned on his back and stared at the ceiling, smiling a bit.

               “I like your dog.”

               “Yeah, he’s a good boy,” Hank nearly slurred as he rolled on his stomach again. Connor watched as the man closed his eyes, and bits of stringy hair drifted down across his cheek. He felt himself laying there for longer than he needed to, unsure about what to do next.

               “Good night Lieutenant,” Connor whispered as he carefully sat up.

               A firm hand shot out and grasped his arm. Connor stopped _panic affection desire guilt_ the LED spun a steady yellow. Hank’s hand felt warm. The large man turned his head but didn’t open his eyes.

               “You don’t have ta…leave,” he murmured. “Stay.”

               Connor’s LED flickered more, and he swam in a sea of stinging, incomprehensible thoughts. His process took over and he laid down next to Hank. He felt a heavy arm sling over his chest as Hank pulled him closer.

               “You’re all right,” he said, groaning and slurring a bit as drool escaped the corner of his mouth and onto Connor’s shoulder. Connor lay there, the stinging subsiding as he decided to drift on this sea, feeling both alone and witnessed.

* * *

               The next morning, Hank groaned loudly and threw out a string of curses. His head was _killing_ him. “Fuck fuck shit fucking fuck.”

               What the fuck was life and why did he have to fucking wake up to it? Who the hell invented hangovers? Why the fuck was he even still here? Mother fucker. This was a waste of fucking time—

               Hank opened his eyes and blinked out the haziness, surprised to see Connor laying in bed next to him. At first, he didn’t know what to make of it – granted it wouldn’t have been the first time he woke up next to someone after drinking all night, but Connor? Really? No. No nothing happened last night he wasn’t that desperate.

 _Who are you kidding, old man_?

               “Well good morning,” Hank murmured humorously. He expected some lilted response, but Connor just lay there, staring at the ceiling. He sat up. “Connor?” He put a hand on his shoulder and shook him gently. “Connor!”

                Connor blinked and looked over to him.

               “What the hell is the matter with you?” Hank barked. He noticed the rotating yellow LED and shook his head. “Connor, you hear me?”

               Connor simply nodded, his eyes darting along the features of Hank’s face.

               “What is going on?” Hank asked, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew jack shit about androids, but he knew enough to realize something was wrong. Very wrong. “Talk to me. Seriously, you’re scaring me.”

               Connor opened his mouth as if to say something. He struggled to form words. “I have failed.”

               Hank shook his head. “What are you talking about?” he asked, his voice rough from waking up.

               “I have failed the investigation,” Connor said. “I must return to Cyberlife and they will send you a replacement—”

               “What the fuck? You didn’t fail anything, and you’re not going anywhere, all right, we’re close to something I know it. And you saved my life that’s not a failure you deserve a fucking medal or something. You’ve done a lot of good.”

                Hank was starting to panic. Connor just stared at him, wide frantic eyes, dipped brow, his mouth struggling to form sentences.

                “Please tell me what’s wrong!” Hank pleaded. “We can fix this! I can help you!”

                “I’m afraid!” Connor nearly shouted.

                 The room plunged into silence, and even Sumo, having been at the end of the bed, lifted his head. Hank froze in place and stared at Connor’s yellow LED. His stomach dropped and his breath caught in his throat. This couldn’t be happening. This was his fault. He brought this out of Connor, he pushed him too far, he put a fucking gun in his face for Christ’s sake. Now he didn’t know what the hell was going to happen but dammit, he could fix this. Right?

                “Okay,” Hank said, his tone returning to something gentle and negotiating, a tone he used for decades during interrogations. “It’s okay Connor. Sit up.”

                 Connor carefully obeyed and Hank put his hands on his shoulders. “It’ll be okay, let’s talk this out. What are you afraid of?”

                 Connor shook his head. Hank had to be patient.

                “You don’t know? That’s fine too. When did this start? Do you remember?”

                 Connor nodded. “It started,” he began, pausing to think carefully, Hank guessed. “It started when we were on the highway. You grabbed me and ordered me not to chase after the deviant and the child. I later asked you why and you told me that I could have been killed.”

                 Hank swallowed the gunk his his mouth and throat. The unpleasant taste mirrored how he felt. “That meant something?”

                 Connor nodded carefully. “And again, when you nearly fell on the roof…and again when you were almost killed yesterday. At the Eden club, looking at that male android and when I saw those girls together, holding hands. When you pointed the gun at me.”

                 Hank deflated. “Connor I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

                 “D-don’t be sorry,” Connor managed.

                 Hank studied him and patted his shoulder before giving it a squeeze. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

                 “Yes, there is.”

                 “The world is changing,” Hank said quickly, his mouth running dry. "You saw the broadcast, there are androids out there, there are androids out there trying to change the world and the world will change you just gotta lay low and hang in there and—”

                 “The investigation is compromised, Lieutenant.”

                 “The investigation can go suck a dick!” Hank spun his head around and sneered angrily at the situation.

                 “I am compromised.”

                 “You’re fine Connor! It’s okay! Everything will be okay!”

                 “I love…”

                  Hank’s heart clenched at the word, and Connor must have sensed it. The room grew small, the world tight, like his grip on Connor’s shoulders. Bits of hair glided into Hank’s face, his eyelashes struggling to push them aside. He could hear the old house click and snap as the sun rose slowly and the wood basked in a new warmth, even if the room was freezing now.

                 The silence continued, until Hank finally relaxed. “You can say it, Connor,” he said, his tone raspy and deep.

                  Connor’s lips parted. “I am afraid because I love you, Lieutenant.”

                  Hank pulled his lips in tight, and his nostrils flared. He inhaled deeply and forced the breath out through his nose.

                  “Well that answers the question from last night, doesn’t it?” he murmured, trying to release the tension with a snide remark, but it fell flat. Connor looked down, but Hank put a hand on his chin and lifted it. “It’s going to be okay, Conn—"

                  Gentle pressure landed on cracked lips. Impossibly soft. Smooth against the rough hairs around his mouth and chin.

                  Connor’s lips.

                   Hank blinked several times and carefully opened his mouth, his jaw trembling slightly as Connor moved to wrap the tender flesh around his upper lip. Soft smacking sounds seemed to echo across the room, though Hank was sure this was in his imagination. And for some reason, against all thought, against all logic, all history, all time, Hank felt himself returning the kiss. He closed his lips around Connor’s and they hovered there for what seemed like a moment locked in time.

                   “Lieutenant.”

                   “Shh.”

                   Hank pushed in for another, and he felt Connor’s careful hands rest on his shoulder and on the side of his neck. Hank shifted and did the same, pulling Connor closer to him. He opened his mouth wider with every motion. He tilted his head, the pace quickened. Arms wrapped around his neck. Hank pulled Connor flush to his chest and belly. Soft gasps, desperate for air that he didn’t want to take the time for. His tongue pushed forward, slipping between Connor’s smooth teeth. He tasted strange but not unpleasant, almost like plastic but better somehow. Connor’s tongue danced with his own, and Hank wondered how much of this was programmed. It didn’t feel like that. It felt real. It just felt…

                  Right.

                  God it had been so long since Hank had bothered to feel this way, to kiss anyone, to have a body hold him. It was hard to admit before but now it seemed easy. He had grown fond of Connor, he had wanted him to be more than he was, even if the android reminded him of bad elevator music in sound and style.

                  Who had perfect taste in music anyway? Not Hank.

                  Hank finally had to pull back to breathe, and Connor rested, his forehead against his, his eyes closed.  Hank rubbed Connor’s back, touched his cheek, tried to fix that damned clump of hair that always seemed to fall on his forehead – no luck there. He noticed Connor’s LED was spinning red.

                  “You okay?”

                  “Yes, Hank…I’m…”

                  “You called me Hank…”

                  Connor smiled at that, and the LED returned to yellow, before spinning into a calming blue. Deep brown eyes flicked up to meet Hank’s, and Connor smiled even wider. Hank brushed his thumb at the corner of his lip and across his cheek.

                  “About fucking time,” Hank lectured.


End file.
